


With All Due Consideration

by Amboriel



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Bondage, M/M, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amboriel/pseuds/Amboriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim pushes Spock a bit too far with a particularly risky Away mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With All Due Consideration

Fury not his own snarled in his head as soon as he materialized on the transporter circle, surging up at the back of his mind.

Jim grinned through the mouthful of blood. Sure, the aftermath of his bargaining tactics would get taken out of his skin twice over, but Spock was just so _fun_ to piss off. And it wasn't like Spock would do any (permanent) damage.

Probably.

Though, really, the look on Spock's face wasn't particularly reassuring. Even the ensign manning the transporter could tell, judging from the way she edged away from the First Officer.

 _Why, Spock, were you actually worried?_ Jim broadcasted that as loud as he could, and was gratified to see – and feel – the shields slam down over Spock's face and mind. Ha. Take that.

“Captain,” Spock said, voice perfectly level. “I assume negotiations were successful.”

“Quite, Mr. Spock,” Jim answered, not bothering to stop grinning. “But I'm afraid I need to drop in on Doctor McCoy. Care to come along?”

“Of course,” Spock said, voice damnably neutral, and dropped in at his side.

Jim glanced at him a few times on the way to Sickbay, but Spock's composure didn't change. Nor was there any difference while Bones grumbled over him (“Dammit, Jim, you're lucky you've still _got_ your ribs, forget the bruising, do you think I can raise folks from the dead, one of these days —” “Yes, Bones, you've said it before.”) nor when Bones pronounced him more-or-less fine.

By the time Jim made it back to his quarters, Spock still pacing him, _he_ was the one starting to get tense. Spock hadn't let the shields back down yet, and Jim couldn't break them from his side – the downside to being human, so far as he was concerned. But how mad could Spock actually be? It wasn't like Jim'd done anything considerably different than in the past, and he'd been in worse danger before... facing off against Spock, even, in the _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_.

The rationalizations didn't make up for the fact that he still couldn't feel his bondmate.

“So,” he started.

“No,” Spock interrupted.

Jim stared at him, dimly aware of the door sliding shut behind them. “...Spock?”

“No, Jim. You may not make excuses. There were other paths that you could have chosen. Instead your carelessness and haste nearly resulted in your death.”

“It didn't, obviously,” Jim said, crossing his arms.

“Irrelevant. You put yourself in danger without considering the effects of your actions on others who rely on you.” Spock shifted, facing him, and stepped forward; Jim stepped back without quite realizing what he was doing.

“I considered,” he argued.

“You did _not_ , Jim. You are one of the only surviving experienced captains in Starfleet. Your crew depends upon your judgment and reliability and will be reduced in efficiency if you are incapacitated. Moreover, our bond ensures that if you are seriously injured or otherwise distressed I will be negatively affected myself; your death could rebound on me and cause irreparable mental damage.” Spock raised one eyebrow, backing Jim into the wall. “These are all things that you know, Jim. Therefore I submit to you that you did not, in fact, consider alternatives before acting.”

Jim stared at him. “Spock —”

“ _No_ , Jim,” and Spock grabbed him, hip and shoulder, pivoting fast enough that Jim's feet left the ground and hurling him to the bed. Jim fell back on it, eyes wide, scrabbling to get his balance back – he never precisely forgot, how strong Spock was compared to humans, but it always stayed background knowledge, not something to really take into account – Spock moved, looming at the bedside, Jim looking up at him, and then the shields came down.

Fury fear concern love all tsunami-strong and Jim writhed, trying to get away from it, too much. But Spock was on him, on top of him, pinning him down with utterly ruthless ease, forcing him to lie still even as his mind held Jim's in place and refused to let him go unconscious. “Spock, Spock, please,” aware that he was begging but not caring, anything to escape.

Spock didn't let him.

Eventually Jim stilled, the barrage slowing. His face was turned, pressing into the pillow, and he realized that his eyes were wet; Spock still stretched out above him, but the weight was almost a comfort, now. _Spock_ , he whispered in his thoughts.

 _Jim_.

Spock watched him: quiet, motionless, but when Jim tried to move he found that he couldn't, Spock restraining him without a hint of effort. So he gave up on it, relaxing into Spock's hold, reveling in the approval radiating from the other presence in his head. The boundary between their minds was so thin, not really there at all, and he rested outside of himself. Considerations or no, there were no decisions to make, here.

Some measureless time later Spock shifted. Jim.

Oh. Spock's erection was heavy between his legs, and Jim realized his own arousal was pressing against Spock's stomach. He made to move, but apparently that wasn't allowed yet because he utterly failed. Even so, he wanted.

 _T'hy'la_ , he said, lifting his head enough to mouth at Spock's jaw. Heat rushed back through him and suddenly the want became need, fierce. Spock, please.

Spock hummed in his throat and shifted to his side, one hand pushing down on Jim's chest while the other pulled off first Jim's pants, then his own. Jim lifted his arms, careful not to move any other part of his body, and Spock stripped off Jim's shirt before shrugging out of his. Then he nudged a knee in between Jim's legs, spreading him open; Jim let him, mind and body pliant underneath him.

He couldn't move even if he wanted. Knowing it made his heart run faster, his breath shallow.

Two fingers slipped inside and he whined, bucking – or trying to, because Spock wasn't letting him, and wasn't moving his fingers, either. Jim settled back down and was rewarded with a stabbing twist that sent heat flaring up and down his spine.

“Again,” he panted, repeating it in his mind when Spock shut his mouth with a kiss. Again, Spock, please, feels so good —

It was almost like torture, Spock deliberately wringing every bit of pleasure out of him with his fingers, driving Jim all the way to the edge and then dragging him back from it only to do it all over again. Jim begged shamelessly, body jerking, doing its best to get more, and the inability to break Spock's hold only pushed him farther. Hate you, please, let me come, please Spock t'hy'la please, until finally Spock pressed hard against his prostate and his mind at the same time, and the edge of his vision frayed out as he came.

But before Jim had a chance to come down from the high of orgasm Spock shoved his legs up, thick head of his cock pushing inside, and thrust all the way in. Jim threw his head against the pillow, back arching, entire body spasming around it, and sobbed. Spock's pleasure spilled over into Jim's mind, piling on top of his own and stripping any bit of control from him and Jim couldn't do anything except take it, body and mind pinned in place, too much, too much.

He came again, screaming.

 _“Jim,”_ Spock gasped, and pushed deep inside of him, “Jim,” before the weight of him settled back down onto Jim's body – holding him, still. Jim only sighed, eyes slipping close. Moving seemed not to be an option and, really, was overrated anyways...

...regardless of how much he loved seeing Spock angry.


End file.
